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To paraphrase Blaise Pascal: I'm sorry for the long story, I didn't have time to make it shorter. Hope you like it anyway!

This piece was a special piece for my birthday for  Dwarf_Ninjas


"A Change of Perspective"


Donald Nevis was bored.

Bored of this city. Bored of his job. Bored of his life.

If he really had to admit it, he wasn’t so much bored as fed up. His grandmother had always said “boredom was a choice” and he didn’t want to choose boredom; it chose him.

He’d been trying to get a writing career going. University courses in history, philosophy, poetry and the classics had left him with a desire to write. In school, his mind began to burn and he began to write. But, the life experiences of a middle-class city boy were not exactly the stuff to set the page on fire. He decided to travel when he graduated but, the student debt hit hard and since he liked living in a house and eating food, work it was.

While his grades were stellar, a major in Edwardian History with a minor in 17th century poetry didn’t exactly make his CV shine. So, until something better came along, it was delivering for Curry Gardens.

Fasim was a kind and generous boss and there was never a lack of free food but, running around London with bags of spicy food was less than thrilling. It was definitely affecting his writing. Even roaming the London streets after dark, interesting things seemed to avoid happening to him. Judy delivered to a secret brothel (She was invited inside and had to decline a job offer by the madame) and Trevor arrived at an address that turned out to be the London Heliport (and not only was flown to hand deliver his bag to a Saudi prince’s yacht, he got a £500 tip to boot). For Donald, it was normal people and decent tips.

Boring.

Until that midnight delivery to Knightsbridge.

It was a super-posh address. Not a place he’d expect to get Curry Gardens delivered but, who was he to say. There was also the change of a good tip; nobs threw 50s around like fivers. He knocked on the door and a vision appeared and he found himself stunned

She was older than him, in her mid-forties and still quite beautiful with a head full of strawberry blond hair. What was stunning, however, was her dress. It was straight out of Sense and Sensibility. Silk and lace and, as far as his untrained eye could tell, not a costume. He was entranced by how she moved. It was as though it was her everyday clothes, she moved so naturally.

“Ah! You’re here!” She said in a voice that seemed to exude wealth, privilege, and a hint of sexual power.

“Yes, ma’am. That’ll be six pounds, fifty” Donald said. He peered around her and noticed the. lush, period furnishings. Rich people sure are weird, he thought.

“I do so love the food from your dimension! So exotic and delicious!” She still hadn’t reached for the bag so he proffered it.

She began to study his face, looking deep into his eyes. A small, benevolent smile slowly formed on her perfect lips.

“What is your name, young human?” She asked

“Young what?” Donald thought and then answered out loud, “Nevis, ma’am. Donald Nevis”

“Donald Nevis” she said and continued to study him. He wished she’d just take the bag and give him his damned money. Uncomfortable, he looked over her shoulder and noticed that the window behind her showed blue sky and afternoon sun over lush green fields. What the…

“I can see you don’t enjoy your life, Donald” She placed an hand on his shoulder and he jumped a little

“Look, I” he began

“How would you like a new position? One different than anything you could imagine?” She said, the smile was still benevolent.

“Uh, sure, I guess.” he stammered. This was not usual. Why could this have been a brothel, instead this, “What do you mean?”

“A job, Donald,” Still the smile, “A job that will be so much more different that bringing food to people. A life that will be so far removed from your own, you will find every day new and interesting. In addition to salary and time off, you’ll get room and board and I’ll provide all new clothing for you.”

Donald’s mind was racing. What if this was real? What if she really was offering him something better than Curry Gardens and a three-roomate flat?

Take a chance, he thought, you’ve got nothing to lose. It’s just a job, after all.

“S-sounds good” he wondered why he stammered, “I’ll have to give Fasim two wee-“

“You’ve got to start immediately, or not at all. This portal will only hold for one more hour.”

Portal? What-

“What do you say, Donald?” The smile and her bright violet eyes entranced him.

“Sure” he found himself saying

“Lovely! I so won’t regret hiring you” she took his elbow and led him from the midnight stoop into the afternoon parlor, “and there’s a very good chance you won’t regret it either!”

The door closed automatically behind them and the sound of it closing was ever-so-slightly ominous but, he found himself unable to say anything as she steered him to a small table in the middle of the room. On it was was a piece of paper, a quill and an in-pot.

“Just sign your name, my dear” she inked the quill and handed it to him, “and we’ll get you fitted out immediately.

“I’ve never used a quill before…”

“Don’t you mind. As long as you. sign it,” her smile was sill benevolent and her eyes still sparkled at him.

He blotched the “D” but got his stride by the “n’. In the end his signature was at least readable. He handed back the quill and she put it into the pot.

“Now, put the bag down, that a good lass” She said, smiling

He put the bag on the table and stood awkwardly. He wondered idly about the ‘good lass’ thing but, the lady began speaking. Her tone still benevolent but, with an edge of command

“My name is Lady Georgina Cavendish, Marquess of Cholmondeley. You may call me, ‘my lady’. Now, let’s get you fitted out, shall we? Place your hand on mine…”

She raised her left hand, palm facing Donald. He raised his right hand and pressed it to hers. There was an odd tinging and then a light began to surround him. There was a strange, soft weight on his head and he reached up to feel some sort of light cloth hat.

Then things got very interesting indeed…